


"I Will"

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, Dom Draco, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Maybe eventual smut?, Post-Hogwarts, Slow Build, Some Fluff, Sub Harry, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy is both the Ministry's top resource for all Death Eater related topics and receiving death threats everyday. There's only one Auror capable of being (and forced to be) his personal bodyguard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"No fucking way!" Harry shouted while glaring daggers at Malfoy.

He knew it was beyond disrespectful to scream obscenities at Kingsley, because of a direct order _from Kingsley,_ but there was nothing (ABSOLUTELY NOTHING) in the entire world that would ever make him agree to being Malfoy's personal bodyguard. Least of all Malfoy's stupid, self-satisfied smirk as he sat cross-legged on Harry's chair in his bloody office. On his desk sat a single piece of parchment listing the terms of Harry's assignment. On it were only three rules, hand written by Malfoy himself, but composed the single most humiliating document of Harry's life.

"Take it as a compliment. You wouldn't have been chosen you if you simply weren't the best, Pothead." Draco sneered, rolling his eyes as if Harry's anger was the just another mundane aspect of his day.

"Calm down Auror Potter or I will strip you of your position as quickly as it was given to you," Kingsley retorted, slow yet chillingly.

Harry grumbled a "Yes sir" and cast his eyes downwards to his boots. He worked his ass off for over two years since the War ended; tracking the remaining Death Eaters, and stopping all other sorts of magical crimes as per his Auror duties. Nothing would make him _agree_ to being Malfoy's security guard, but the thought of losing his job would definitely force him to do it.

Kingsley continued, "I know given your history together you two have not shared very _civil_ relations, but you are I trust you out of everyone else in the department for this task and Mr. Malfoy specifically asked for you. You will find his terms, though somewhat questionable, to not be particularly more burdensome than your normal affairs".

Harry snatched the parchment containing the terms up and read it in a low, but scornful voice, " 'I, Harry James Potter, will vow the following under the unbreakable vow: 1) To protect Draco Lucius Malfoy, to the best of my abilities/with my life. 2) To wait on him hand and foot. 3) To always make myself available for his convenience.' "

Draco gave a chuckle after Harry finished reading, but mostly went ignored as Harry glared at Kingsley in silent fury. 

Then Harry enunciated bitterly, "Am I suppose to be an Auror for the Ministry of Magic or Malfoy's new house elf?"

"A word Auror Potter," Kingsley said as he pulled Harry aside.

"Why am I suppose to become a joke for Malfoy's amusement? This is absolutely insane!"

"Whether you like it or not it is still a fact that ever since the Malfoy's were pardoned for their participation as Death Eaters Draco has provided the Ministry with much of the information it has needed after the War. After the Malfoy's conditional house arrest was lifted an alarming amount of death threats have been specifically addressed towards him. I need you to do this assignment properly for the interests of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"And that really requires me to swear on my life to be his slave?"

"These terms are what he needs to know he is safe. He isn't asking for the entire Auror's office to be at his disposal-"

"Just me," Harry interrupted.

"Just you. And you will be able to discuss terms of your own with Mr. Malfoy for him to also swear under the unbreakable vow, that was the most that I could bargain for you."

With a sigh Harry thanked him as Kingsley turned to say his goodbyes to Malfoy and bring Ron back into the office as he left. As Harry's partner, Ron had been debriefed about the situation beforehand, but the grimness on his face both echoed Harry's displeasure and showed his own discomfort with the exchange he had overheard.

"Alright Potter," Draco announced, "what terms do you have for me?"

"Remove items 2 and 3."

"Absolutely not, they will be necessary for my protection."

Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling again. "Fine. Then you must release me from these terms once you no longer need my protection and you must always tell me the truth when I ask for it."

"Sure. Nothing else?"

"No, sir." Harry balled his hands into fists, but knew he had to prove to Kingsley that he was capable of babysitting a git like Malfoy.  

Draco venomously smiled, "Good."

Harry and Draco locked eyes as they both grasped each other's right hands and knelt to the ground.

"Weasley, will you act as the bonder?"

Ron mumbled as he shuffled in close and drew the tip of his wand near their interlocked hands, "I bloody have to."

Draco coughed arrogantly then spoke as softly as a whisper, "Will you, Harry, protect me from harm to the best of your abilities and with your own life should it come to it?"

"I will."

"And will you wait on me hand and foot?"

"I will."

"And will you always be available for my convenience?"

"I will."

After each clause Harry accepted a thin stream of flame issued from the tip of Ron's wand and wound around Harry and Draco's hands until three glowing strands caged their hands in place. Both the radiant light caused by the spell and the strange intimacy of the vows made Harry light-headed as he stared into Draco's scintillating, grey eyes. He almost forgot he had his own terms to state until the tongues of flame dissipated.

With all the professionalism he could muster Harry said, "And will you, Draco, release me from my vows after you no longer need my services?" 

After quickly smirking to himself Malfoy promised, "I will."

"And will you tell me the truth whenever I ask you for it?"

"I will."

Another two streams of flame circled their hands before disappearing and they were soon just kneeling in front of each other, hands clasped together, and holding each others gaze. A few moments of silence passed before they both stood up and Harry politely asked, "So what first?" 

Malfoy simply replied, "Follow me." 


	2. Chapter 2

Though he despised himself for always being envious of Potter, Draco had to admit that the years since they had last met ( _like everything else_ ) had been good to Harry. As he led them towards the atrium in search of a fireplace Draco noticed how much more muscular Harry seemed under his Auror robes. Even though Potter overall was still quite lean, Draco thought it would be debatable as to whether his robes or a tight, wet T-shirt clung more to his body. When they finally found a fireplace Draco had a momentary lapse of memory staring at Potter before he remembered to toss some floo powder into the fireplace, state the address of his London apartment, and step into the emerald flames as Potter followed. 

After entering the living room and gaining some composure Draco declared, "First thing I need you to do is help me do a sweep around my flat and collect any evidence useful to the investigation into the threats."

An exasperated Harry asked, "You want me to clean your bloody flat for you?"

"No, I meant I wanted you check my flat for any traps and whatnot, but feel free to clean every week," Draco smugly answered.

Though he was only one more snide remark away from hexing Malfoy into ferret Harry's irritation quickly dissolved into wonder as he glanced around Malfoy's flat. Far from the drab and solemn green, grey, and black Harry had expected Draco's flat carried both the regal airs of a pure-blood and the the definite signs of bachelor life. While its high-ceilinged, gilded mahogany walls and panoramic view of the downtown skyline made Harry uneasy with how luxurious it seemed, what really threw him off was how sparsely furnished in was ( _for a Malfoy_ ). Three cream coloured sofas surrounded a cluttered, glass coffee table in front of a large television. The fireplace stood adjacent to the windows and across from it was a bureau covered in a messy array of pictures, notes, and books. The walls were bare save for a simple mirror hanging near the entrance door, a dusty non-magical picture of the Malfoy family, and a large spill ( _Firewhisky?_ ) that had long ago dripped into a stain, covered in the shards of a broken bottle, on the deep burgundy carpeting.

Of all the questions that popped into Harry's head he immediately asked the one he soon regretted, "Why did you leave Malfoy Manor?"

A moment of silence passed as Draco blanched before whispering, "I couldn't stand being near my parents anymore. They were more disappointed by their loss of status than they were horrified by the War."

Harry winced from shame and muttered, "Oh."

"Oh?"

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't need your sodding pity, Potter."

"No, I'm sorry I asked. I know you don't want to talk about, but I don't blame you for throwing in your lot with them, not really."

"Another moment of intense silence passed between them before Draco offered, "And you don't blame me for breaking your nose in Sixth year?"

Harry laughed, "Now that was absolutely your fault Malfoy! I ought to return the favour."

They softly laughed together before Draco remembered the business they had to attend to in an attempt to evade further questioning. 

"Go clear the guest room, first right down the hall. You'll need to stay in my flat to properly look out for me," Draco politely instructed.

Though Harry would normally be horrified by the suggestion in any other circumstance he jokingly chimed a "Yes, sir" and left to find his lodging in Malfoy's grand flat. 

 

***

What Harry quickly began to notice about Malfoy's flat was that it had a lot of muggle influence ( _unless he somehow happened to inherit all this Ikea furniture_ ) and that it looked nearly uninhabited. That wasn't to say that it looked in disrepair, yet it was sadly evident that Malfoy did not seem to have ever had guests whatsoever. Everything in the guest room looked new, neatly placed, and collecting dust. A large spray bottle of doxycide sat on top of a dresser Harry felt definitely contained a boggart, but otherwise the room was just as spacious and cozy as the living room. After shaking off the dust from the sheets, Harry collapsed onto the four poster guest bed, reminiscing about the Hogwarts dormitories.    

 


	3. Chapter 3

Later that night Harry met Ron at the Leaky Cauldron for a much needed pint and to complain about his new job.

"I swear Malfoy's always switching between acting like my mate and forcing me to walk on eggshells!" Harry lamented before taking a swig of his spiked butterbeer,"One moment we're joking, the next he's screaming at me for trying to clean this huge Firewhisky stain. 'Least it meant he yelled at me to fuck off so we could meet up."

"Amen," Ron toasted sarcastically, "but I don't see much point in you being Malfoy's security detail if you guys are at each others throats."

Harry just grumbled, "Doesn't matter anyway. I'm stuck to my vows 'til we find the tosser who started the whole thing."

"So what've you gathered for the case?"

"Malfoy's been out of house arrest for 6 months now, but just recently howlers and angry letters have been streaming in. It's the usual 'I will find you', 'You will not live to see the light of day' stuff, which normally didn't miff Malfoy because his family got them all the time after the war, but there's trace amounts of dark magic on everything so he's worried it might be the escaped Death Eaters out for blood after the Malfoys betrayed them."

"Pfft, typical. I'd be more impressed than mad that Mrs. Malfoy could lie right to  _His_ face," Ron muttered into his glass. Narcissa Malfoy's deception was the biggest factor in the Malfoy family's pardon, but Lucius and Draco were much less revered by wizarding society than they once were. The Elder Malfoy could be forgiven once for his Death Eater association, but twice was all it took to become as hated as some of the worst dark wizards in history.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about Harry's own failure at occulmency before a small owl swooped onto their booth with a note for Harry. In neat cursive the note read, _Get back here you wanker_.

Harry sighed, "Better get back to Princess Malfoy."

As he got up to leave Ron caught him by the arm. A little tipsy from drinking Ron explained, "Wait mate, wait. I'm not suppose to tell you, but you didn't actually make an unbreakable. Kinglsey isn't stupid enough to risk giving his best Auror to a brat like Malfoy so I performed a charm to mimic the look of the spell."

"So I don't have to do anything for him?"

"Well you still gotta pretend you're bound to your vows, but at least you won't die if you tell him 'no'."

He couldn't decide whether to smack Ron for not telling him beforehand or buy him another drink as thanks. In the end Harry decided the biggest favour he could do for his best friend was to apparate him back to Hermione before he could drunkenly splinch himself.

***

"You're late," Draco declared when Harry finally made it back to the flat.

"Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and drunk friends, at your service," Harry replied with a mock bow.

Draco chuckled, but he reverted back to his most arrogant voice to say, "I've found a way for you to apologize for what you did earlier."

 _Didn't realize I did anything wrong_ , Harry thought bitterly, "Sure, what is it."

"Come over closer and get down on your knees."

If Harry was still a young schoolboy he would be blushing and stammering, but also pulling punches because it was Draco bloody Malfoy asking this of him. Instead, because he knew it was his job to play pretend servant, Harry did what he was told without complaint.

"Good. Now I want you to kiss my feet. That seems suitably degrading enough, yes?" Draco said with a wicked smirk.

 _Cheeky bastard_ , was Harry's last thought before he lowered his head to kiss Malfoy's black leather oxfords. In truth Harry was somewhat relieved that Malfoy kept his shoes clean all the time, but it made the deed no less embarrassing. After laying a peck on both feet Harry quickly raised himself upright to ask, "Happy?"

"For now," Draco remarked.

After getting up Harry swiftly stormed off to his guest room and shut the door before he registered that he was actually mere inches away from Malfoy's crotch when he finished kissing his feet. Collapsing onto his bed, Harry covered his face in shame as he felt a bit of arousal stirred at the thought.

Meanwhile, Draco still sat in the living room, savoring the memory of Harry in front of him, looking up at him from under his large, pretty lashes. _So close_. But quickly attempted to rid himself of the memory with a few shots of hard liquor.          


	4. Chapter 4

Being Malfoy's live in body guard was both odd and strangely calming.

Draco kept an air of nonchalance in everything he did, yet had an alertness as if he slept with one eye open, and Harry followed him everywhere; discreetly or right beside him (while using a glamour charm). The tailor, Sunday brunches, strolls around Hyde Park; literally every mundane activity unless otherwise told not to by Draco. Harry was cautious when asking personal questions and investigating around Malfoy, and yet (by nothing short of a miracle) they fell into a comfortable routine that has carried them through the longest period of civility between them ever. Harry made breakfast every morning, Draco made their tea; Harry left to work from morning to noon, Draco was most active from noon to midnight; Harry decided which routes to take to ensure Draco's safety, Draco (politely) fussed over the slightest details of everything else; etc.

Above all else, Harry actually started to enjoy getting to know Draco without the pettiness of schoolboys souring the situation. They had even began entertaining the idea of being on first name basis, but they quickly scoffed off the idea that it would ever be natural to start their days with _"Morning Draco"_ and _"Good morning Harry"_. Sure, Draco still used his absolute power to bully Harry here and there ( _"Potter, do the dishes", "Potter, do the laundry",_  etc.,), but embarrassment on level with the shoe debacle was never repeated (much to the relief of both of them).

Even after several weeks on duty, despite his best efforts, Harry still hadn't made significant headway in Draco's case. The Howlers alternated between voices of men and women, but were never the same, and the only suspicious individuals they normally encountered were the usual shady characters haunting Knockturn Alley. Any Death Eaters still active were hard enough to find as it is. The lack of progress was beginning to make Harry much more snappish with everyone, so he took his frustration out how he usually did: apparating to a random, open field and flying on his old firebolt. He finished around half past midnight with sore muscles and de-frayed nerves.

After Harry apparated back to an alley near Draco's flat he stumbled around like a drunkard and slumped his weight against the door before flopping into the living room. 

"Out again I see? Should I be worried you may abandon me yet?" The reclining Malfoy commented, spread across a love seat with his legs crossed. Setting down the book he was reading, Draco's unimpressed gaze was nothing new to Harry. They had been working together quite well, but their failure to achieve significant progress effected Draco exponentially more than Harry for obvious reasons. 

"You've caught me. I've been having a string of affairs behind your back this whole time." Harry slurred into a cushion.

Cocking an eyebrow, Draco replied, "It would certainly explain the musty scent of shame you always reek of and how you while away the hours in my absence."

"Oh shut it you git." 

"Here, sit down in front of me Potter," Draco instructed as he dropped a small cushion on the floor. Too tired to argue or even ask what he was planning, Harry obliged and slumped against the front of the sofa. It dawned on him that he was nestled right in between Draco's legs, but the feel of his delicate hands massaging into the tense muscles of Harry's back made him melt.     

"Mmm, why are you doing this?" Harry could barely keep his eyes open but it felt so, so good. He didn't even notice when Draco took off his sweat-stained jersey, but Malfoy's deft hands touching the bare skin lower down Harry's back definitely made his heart skip a beat.

Draco only murmured into Harry's ear. "You can return the favour later, now that we've passed the point of hoping to strangle each other to death." Harry was so thankful that his blushing face was out of Draco's range of sight. For the next fifteen minutes Draco went to work on Harry's back in comfortable silence. This unexpected act of kindness on Draco's part would have completely thrown off Harry any other time, but for the time being he was content to allow the soothing rhythmic relief lull him to sleep.

Neither of them brought it up the next morning that they had engaged in (what is ordinarily) a really intimate act of affection, or that Harry fell asleep on the living room floor and Draco had to tuck him into bed. They didn't bring it up for another stressful week of not making progress on the case until after Harry came back from work. 

Draco called over from his bureau, "I'm calling in my favour Potter. And stop slamming the door!"

"Isn't everything I do a favour?" Harry bitterly muttered, flinging his satchel and Auror robes on the floor.

"No, those are _orders_. Massage, please." Draco even had the audacity to snap his fingers before Harry mumbled a begrudged, "Yes sir."

Harry could tell Draco had just come out of the shower because his hair wasn't styled and still slightly damp, and all he wore was a pair of tight black dress pants. He worked in silence as Draco was pouring over the mess littered in front of him. The bureau was divided into piles of evidence for the case and profiles of potential suspects, as well as multiple wizard and muggle fashion magazines. Harry's mind wandered as he gently rubbed Draco's shoulder blades and worked up to the back of his slender, pale neck before Draco interrupted his thoughts by saying, "I was thinking about a new look. I know you aren't the pinnacle of beauty when it comes to hair, but what do you think?"

"Will changing your look affect the case?" Harry had only realized after asking that he had begun absentmindedly combing his fingers through Draco's luscious, platinum hair.

Draco ( _hopefully_ ) hadn't noticed as he was carding through a muggle magazine for inspiration with his brows knitted. "All right, so maybe after we finish the case, if we ever do. I would still like to know your opinion."

"Err uhh," Harry babbled while patting down the hair he was fiddling with, trying to think of a good response and pointing to the most appealing model he saw. "I think you'd look good with this one?"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Of course! But why change looks at all?" Harry's response was both rushed and over enthusiastic, but he could feel a blush threatening to spread on his cheeks. He really needed to get the hell out of there otherwise he would've been temped to find a way to keep touching his hair. The muscles of Draco's back (still taut and toned from years of quidditch) were beginning to make Harry feel a little heady. He was more caressing them than actually rubbing the tension out.

"I have had this same style since sixth year, don't you think it's a bit juvenile?" Draco turned to look at Harry to reply, effectively snapping him out of his reverie with eyes that nearly glowed silver in the afternoon light. 

"I'm not the 'pinnacle of beauty' here," Harry snorted, flipping his messy mop of bed head for dramatic effect. "I'm just more used to 'Malfoy classic'."

Draco let out a low chuckle before returning to his magazines. They didn't anything for a good while, but Harry eventually stopped and dismissed himself as soon he thought he could get away with not massaging lower down Malfoy's back, to keep his dignity in tact.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go ahead and imagine otherwise, but I think the picture Harry pointed to would look something like this:  
>  https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/34/1a/10/341a10a7e9c350a763cf03c85bbd38b8.jpg


End file.
